


The Things We Do  - Part 2

by InnerSpectrum



Series: Kinktober 2018 [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M, Mystrade is our Division FB Fic Prompts, POV First Person, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 09:28:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16238828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnerSpectrum/pseuds/InnerSpectrum
Summary: Mycroft wakes up to a secret fulfilled





	The Things We Do  - Part 2

**Author's Note:**

> Written for: 
> 
> Kinktober 2018 Prompt: Feet | Sadism/Masochism | Feederism | Shotgunning  
> Mystrade is our Division FB Fic Prompts | Secret

My eyes slowly open in the predawn feeling languid. I smile at the feel of the Egyptian cotton sheets against my skin and the sizeable butt plug inside me. I smile knowing the whiskey I was given last night had to have been spiked for me to have slept through the insertion of this. It's strapped and locked to me. I couldn't remove it if I wanted to, luckily I do not mind at all because oh, that feels so…

Good.

Last night was wonderful. Apparently, someone wishes to continue play this morning and wants me pre-stretched.

I will not say no to that, so I swallow my slight disappointment that Greg is not in bed beside me. I do not have long to be maudlin about it as I realize I am tethered to a bed slowly rising to seated position.

It is not the first time I've awakened this way.

The alacrity to which I am fully alert at the sight in front of me astounds.

A table laden with cakes and pies and pastries and biscuits. All my favourites.

The view of is only marred by one thing: The people sitting at a small table in front of it.

Anthea and Gregory are seated a bistro style table. He is sipping coffee. She sips tea. It looked for all the world as though they chatted by the pastry display of a small coffee shop. Gregory lowered the bed remote to the to the table as the two of them spoke about a case he was working. I clear my throat, they ignore me.

“And what is the meaning of this?” I ask amused.

Again, I am ignored, but Anthea swats the air near her head annoyed, as though a fly buzzed around it. Greg went on about the case, Anthea sipped her tea.

“Would you like a pastry, Anthea?” Gregory asks.

“Why yes, Gregory. A blueberry muffin, the one with the melted butter would be wonderful.”

I groan.

Anthea only likes the blueberry muffins from one place, especially when it's toasted and slathered with their homemade honey butter. They are delightful and my mouth waters from the thought as she breaks off a piece.

“What does Anton do to these that makes them so superior?“ she looked at the piece lovingly “You know I once sent a sample to our labs, just to see.”

"Really?” he grinned, “Anything special? Meth? Coke? Weed?”

“No. It's just a blueberry muffin. A delicious perfe… Greg!”

She laughed as Gregory snatched the piece from between her fingers and popped it into his mouth.

“Oh, this is good! You should try it!” Greg teased as he broke off a new piece and fed it to her. As always she sighed in pleasure when its flavors hit her tongue. Greg broke off another piece and fed it to her. Gregory continues to feed her and I am mesmerized as she describes the rich butter, the sweet berries, the moist cake as she eats until it is done.

“I'm still hungry.” She whines prettily. I quirk a brow. Those are words that almost never leave that woman's mouth. Especially at breakfast.  

“Here, try the lemon meringue.” Gregory reaches over to the display and brings the precut slice it to the table. My breath catches at the thought. 

“Oooh, one of my favourites.” She coos as Greg forks a piece and teases her with it a moment. I cannot help it as I find myself getting hard at the delicious cake touching that pink tongue. How its well-balanced tart to sweet ratio must taste.

“I wouldn't mind a piece.” I call out. Again, I am ignored and she makes the fly swatting motion. I begin to get the idea as Gregory feeds her yet another slice.

The evil sadist I married is forcing me to watch as he feeds, and our sadist lover consumes, bite after delicious bite of the goodies. The lemon meringue, a small strawberry shortcake and a raspberry cheese danish.

I have never seen her consume so much first thing in the morning. Fully erect, I watch jealousy when her hand falls to rub her abdomen. I stare in wonder.

How did they know? 

Anthea does not have much of a sweet tooth. I have long enjoyed watching her eat sweets when she does indulge. It has been my secret fantasy that I'd love to watch her gorge herself silly on sweets just once until she blew. Two of the three people who trust most in the world are in this room. I do let my guard down when I am with them. She or Gregory might have noticed my reaction to her one past day. I would be embarrassed were they not taking the discovery and putting it to good use. 

She sighs and groans as she describes the flavors and textures of each. I am going mad. In my fantasy I am the one feeding her, but my husband knows me so well. This is voyeurism is achingly so much better.

“Oh Greg! I couldn't possibly eat another bite!” she exclaims breathlessly as she opens the top button on her tight skirt. I see the strain on the remaining buttons and know this is all for my benefit. I am enjoying it. 

She needs more. Make her eat some more.

“Oh come now, A. Not even for this light little thing?” he reaches for an almond croissant. I can see the powdered sugar fall like snow as he dangles it over a saucer. "For me?"

“Oh no. I…I couldn't…I will pop.” she shakes her head even as she opens her mouth.

“Can I watch?” the words fall from my lips greedily. In my lust I forgot I was a to be quiet.

“Do they allow pets in this bakery?” Anthea asks Greg switching gears, I can see her tiny smirk.

“Only really good, well-behaved pets.” He grins.

“I will be good. Just watch.” I readily agree, unbelieving of how wanton I've become at the thought of being up close just to watch. I lick my lips as Anthea approaches.

“Should I have the croissant next? There's some rugelah that is looking divine, oh but the baklava!” she taunts as she releases one wrist, then the other.

My eyes go back and forth to the loosened button on her skirt as she rubs her belly and the small flake from the danish that sits becomingly on the swell of her left breast as I rise and moan loudly, the plug making its presence known again. Anthea, having discovered the reason for my attention to her breast, opens a button on her blouse. “See something you like?”

I was looking at the food being consumed. It is only now I notice she is sans bra. Her dark nipples erect under my blatant scrutiny.

I take a step forward, she takes a step back and shakes her head in reprimand, “That's not how good pets receive their treats.”

I take another a step forward anyway my brain thinking _lick the flake...lick the...lick it...lick._...

“You said you'd be good.” Gregory’s grin is all demented and cruel as he purposely shakes the croissant over his lap, sugar falling onto his crotch. “I was going to give you this, but now I don't know if you deserve it.”

Damn!

I am on all fours with a quickness and nearly buckle from the pleasure of the butt plug shifting. I pant as I ball my fists trying to regain control. I want to grab my swollen cock so bad, but I am already in trouble. I know if I touch without permission, it will be worse for me.

“Oh, have some mercy, Greg.” Anthea walks back to the table and sits.

“Mercy is your department, sweetheart, not mine. Hands behind your backs, both of you, then open wide. You come here.” He shrugs and points to a spot on the floor near them.

We both obey placing our hands behind our respective backs. The affect makes her chest stick out more as Anthea opens her mouth and I spread my knees with a shudder.

I sit mesmerized as he shoves the croissant into her mouth until she has to bite or choke. I feel myself start to leak as she struggles to chew and swallow. The moment she can take a decent breath he shoves more between her teeth with a command to finish it.

The bistro table is glass and I see flakes and sugar fall to her breasts and the table top.

“Oh I'm really full now, so much sugar in me, damn.” Anthea sighs as she pulls the blouse from her skirt and opens it completely. Croissant flakes fall to the floor and fastidious me could not have cared less at the moment. I did not notice she had taken off her shoes until I felt her soft bare foot slide along my cock. And then she applies pressure. It is evil torture as I watch Gregory take a fork, lift a flake from the creamy breast and feeds it to her while she crushes the head of my cock into the carpet. 

Gregory pets my head at my loud groan.

He places a dessert plate with baklava before her. I can smell the sweetness as he dips a fork in the honey sauce and licks before giving it to her.

“I did not give you permission to move your arms. Sit on the floor and eat it all.” He rises from his seat.

As much of a masochist as I, I know she knows better, she wanted to be punished. Her skirt is tight and partially through her squat to the floor a button pops.

“Oh god. Eat some more. Eat!” I pray breathlessly seeing the next button about to meet its demise.

“Greg, I can't! Look at how my buttons are popping off. I told you…”

“You what?” Gregory’s voice changes slightly and both of us snap to attention.

“Apologies, Master." she doesn't miss a beat when the next button flies just as she settles with the baklava before her. She takes a fork full and slowly raises it, the honey sauce drips on her as her pink tongue licks at flaky fill dough.

“This is so sweet. So buttery! Oooooh!” her eyes close for a moment in rapture before she takes another mouthful.

“Master, please!” I moan loudly. “I'm close. So close."

“Such a filthy sound from that prim mouth! Too bad. Don't do it.” Master tuts. So engrossed in watching Anthea I did not realize Master had knelt behind me until I felt his hands guiding me to all fours. He removes the harness, but not the plug.

Being on all fours, places Anthea closer to me. She opens buttons from the bottom of her skirt and I realize she is totally commando as she grinds her hips in the carpet. She stretches out legs beneath me and pats my cock with her feet, even as she savors more baklava. 

“No please! Please.” I beg, my body trembling “Too much. Too much.”

“You've been so good. You deserve a treat.” Her smile is all evil as she leans forward. I know what is about to happen. I have been set up to fail and I cannot do a thing about it. It will be a glorious failure.

Anthea does not touch me, just blows softly on my lips, and at the scent of her baklava honeyed lips, I come.

Hard.

With a laugh Anthea rises from the floor, with Master's permission, taking the baklava with her. I see my come on her feet and shins as walks away. 

“I told you not to come!” Master snarls. The slaps to my arse, still sore from the night before, are brutal and I come harder with it.

Apologies fall rapidly from me, but the damage is done. I wonder what punishment I will have to endure as Master rubs my arse making rapidly me hard again when Anthea returns. She is completely naked now except for her stilettos. It is the way she knows I like her best in this bedroom.

When she sits again she has a dessert plate of tiramisu, my absolute favorite dessert with her. She lays down and wiggles forward until my head is nearly between her thighs. She balances the slice of tiramisu on her pubis, the swell of her over stuffed belly behind it. I can smell the sweetness that is the cake and the sensual heat that is Anthea. I inhale deeply. She dips a moist finger in her vagina, then smears some of the frosting on it before licking it from her finger. I whine.

Bloody hell that is sinful!

“Last chance to show how good you can be.” Master purrs in my ear. “All or nothing.”

I feel a gloved hand slick with lube slide across my arse as more lube is dripped on me.

Oh dear god, what did I do to deserve these two?

“I will be goo…”

I do not get to finish my promise as the plug is rapidly removed. I howl as I feel four of Master's fingers immediately take the plug’s place. I know I have to keep my head up now. If it falls to the plate of tiramisu he will withdraw his hand, Anthea will take away the tiramisu and I will be left wanting and needing. The last time I failed badly they withdrew sex from me for two weeks.

Only from me.

They enjoyed each other in my presence, but all I could do was listen, not even watch. It was especially galling when my body bounced on the bed beside theirs as he fucked her into the mattress behind my literal back.

“Breathe. You're doing so good, my pet. So good.”

I winced and moaned as his thumb made it in. His hand, larger than the plug filled me so much. My entire world coalesced to the feel of him in me as he moved his fist, slowly pumping me as he twisted his hand just right and found my prostate. 

I thank every deity known for that divine moment of grace.

“Up past his wrist, you're amazing at what you can take.” she whispers reverently as I moan more. So full. So good.

I feel him nip at my back. I relax around him as the burn of the stretch eased. 

Then Master takes my cock and pumps it. Incoherent babble drops from my lips. It is a new torment of rapture as a fork of tiramisu passes my lips and its taste floods my pallet.

I have no idea how long I float, seconds, minutes, hours, eternities? They are meaningless in subspace. I am cognizant of nothing but the dual sensations of one fist in me as the other one pumps me.

“Come.” I feel more than hear the whispered command and my mind whites out as I obey. 

Several hours later, after we've suffered through one of the most tedious meetings known to man, I hear Lady Smallwood comment favorably on my serene composure to my PA. She wanted to know my secret considering Elizabeth knew how badly I wanted to hurt people just twenty-four hours ago. 

"Tiramisu for breakfast?" Anthea shrugs with disinterest typing away, as always, on her mobile.

"Fine. Keep his secrets." Smallwood rolls her eyes.

"That is my job." my PA comments dismissively as Smallwood walks away. Her lip curls in the slightest smirk as Anthea sees me approach realizing I heard. 

"And it is an exemplary performance of duty." I return the tiny smirk with one of my own.

For Crown and Country indeed.


End file.
